


Of Strawberries and Whiskey

by xsilverdreamsx



Series: A Rose in Name [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Barebacking, Crossdressing, M/M, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsilverdreamsx/pseuds/xsilverdreamsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames wants the real name that's hidden beneath the layer of white powder and black eyeliner, beneath the French Maid's outfit consisting of a frilly skirt and latex ensemble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Strawberries and Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote an Inception fic! Sort of.  
> Inspired by Joseph Gordon-Levitt [dressing up in some form of kinky French Maid outfit](http://i1003.photobucket.com/albums/af158/maybe77_photo/HitRECord%20on%20Halloween%20103111/P1010474.jpg). Latex and all.  
> (Photo source: maybe77)  
> Beta'ed by pipedreams.

Eames pushes a second finger in and leans closer and whispers in his partner’s ear in a voice that would normally _demand_ obedience. This time, however, he’s rewarded with a negative shake of the head, as the other person refuses to give up the words Eames seeks, and holding them back by biting down stubbornly on those swollen, thoroughly-kissed lips.

Not easily dissuaded, Eames smirks, and twists his wrist, his fingers grazing against a spot deep inside which instantly sends the lithe body beneath him arching back. Between a whine and the words _Oh gods, please, please, I need, I want more_ , Eames finally hears it - a name being uttered, the real name beneath the layer of white powder and black eyeliner, beneath the short blonde wig and red, red lips.

The real name beneath the ridiculously frilly skirt and black latex ensemble of a French Maid’s outfit – an outfit long discarded in the corner of the room, courtesy of Eames’s impatience to get his hands onto the pale skin he had so coveted.

Eames finds himself humming that name repeatedly as he slicks himself up, and pushes in slowly, carefully into the heat, hands splayed across the pale back. He sinks in, fully, completely, _finally_ , and pauses, waiting for the sign to move again. A low moan, and the words _please, now_ and he’s gone. Moving, thrusting and losing himself.

Once, twice, and on the third thrust, Eames slides his fingers past the slim waist framed by the corset, moving his fingers downwards, wrapping them tightly around the hot flesh and stroking it almost roughly. His orgasm hits him suddenly, the grunt of _Arthur_ barely a whisper as he comes, with Arthur crying out and spilling all over Eames’ fingers at the same time.

Later, much later, when they’ve finally cleaned themselves up, and Eames is standing at the door of the dressing room, ready to leave, he feels a hand on his arm, and hears a question being asked softly. He looks over at Arthur’s face, wiped clean of his make-up, his wig in his hands, revealing his own black hair and his eyes bright and earnest. He leans in for a kiss that tastes of strawberries and whiskey, savoring every last bit of it, because he knows this is all he will be able to have --

\-- when Eames opens his eyes, and looks around him, he finds himself alone, in the warehouse, with the low hum of the PASIV to remind him that nothing had been real, that it had been a dream.

All he is left with is an echo of a kiss lingering on his lips, and a memory of the taste of strawberries to haunt him.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Just playing in the sandbox.


End file.
